


Rutting

by Davechicken



Series: Darkpilot Omegaverse [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alpha Poe Dameron, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Bottom Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, M/M, Omega Kylo Ren, Omega Verse, Top Poe Dameron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 23:35:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6829981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben loves when Poe goes into rut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rutting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poetdameron](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetdameron/gifts), [Themes_of_November](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themes_of_November/gifts).



Now that things have settled, their ruts and heats have synched with near perfect timing. Of course, occasionally one will peak first and drag the other up with them, and that tends to make the mad time madder, because it always ends up being longer and more furious. Ben could use a calendar (and he does, in theory, so he can time important work and such around their cycle), but most of the time it’s a pleasant (and slow-burning) surprise.

Poe’s got little signs. Ben is sure he does too, but he doesn’t need to notice them in the same way. Before his mate’s scent changes, his behaviour does, subtly. His already sultry voice turns damn-near hypnotic, his shoulders square more, and he’s a little more protective of their children and territory, without even realising it. He also starts to get jealous and possessive, which pleases Ben no end. 

And Poe’s jealousy normally limits itself to sharp-eyed little glances, and sequestering his omega for a night or two. Their lovemaking gets rabid and if they hadn’t seen to it to make sure there’d be no more children without planning, Ben is sure he’d have a whole litter of them by now. Two is more than enough to start with. If Poe wants more, Ben isn’t ready until Shara and Bail are at least able to walk and feed themselves, thank you.

He’s been getting more intense over the past few nights. Ben doesn’t like to bring attention to it, because Poe is self-conscious about his Alpha traits, and then he tries to keep them in check. Ben _likes them_ , so unless it becomes problematic, he isn’t going to remind Poe that his current mood is hormonal-cycle linked, and just enjoy it.

Which is why, after a long day of training with Luke and the two new recruits he’s found, Ben comes back and grabs the back of the living room chair and _stretches_. He arches like a feline, legs spread and curving to get out some of the heat and tension of the day. He’s mid-way through when Poe comes in through the front door, his eyes hooking straight through Ben like a magnet seeking North. 

Quite before he can register what’s going on, there’s hands on his hips and a warm, solid body pressed against his upper thighs and ass. “You getting ready for me early, babe?”

Ben hadn’t been, but maybe he had, on some level, been expecting Poe. Maybe subconsciously he was prepping and presenting for his Alpha, and the flood of warmth through him, the start of the slick, deep inside, says he’s _definitely_ ready to **be** ready.

“I’m always here for you, Alpha.” He tries to sound sultry and sexy, and not like a cheap porno, but mostly he’s trying not to giggle in delight. 

Hands move around to his flat-again (if silver-thread etched) belly, cinching him higher and back, butting his ass against Poe’s crotch in a fake mounting, and then there’s his shorter mate suddenly breathing hot over his neck and sticking his nose and mouth in against the side of his throat.

Ben turns his head obediently, giving Poe access to the pheromone scents there, the inklings of his cusping heat (which he’s been riding the high of for a few days) and the old mark of claiming forever etched into his moon-pale skin. Tongue and teeth make play of him, scratching over the healed wound, and the sinking feel of a fresh bite makes him buck and whimper.

“ _You smell of them_ ,” Poe snarls, accusingly.

“…what?”

“ _I can smell the Jedi on you_.” His tone is downright feral, slightly cruel, and the hands on Ben’s hips slam him back, hard. 

Poe’s cock is already full behind him, and Ben’s hole flinches in anticipation of the claiming, the mating, the owning. It starts as a strange, deep-inside flooding; the slick forming inside his passage, getting himself ready from the inside out. It builds before it leaks, but it doesn’t feel full in the way it does when it’s Poe’s come instead, it feels like… an itchy, almost-right sensation that needs a thorough, deep scratching.

“I’ve been training with them, that’s why you can smell them.”   


“They need to know you’re **mine** , not theirs.”  


“They know, Poe.” He’s purring, he can’t help it. Poe keeps bumping into him in simulated love-making, and he parts his legs wider in a show of readiness. “But you can make doubly sure. You can claim me, mark me… make everyone smell **you** and not _me_.”  


Hands push under his shirt, slide around his stomach, mapping and then moving to find his slightly-widened omega hips, pinching tight and bouncing Ben backwards. His teeth tease over the old mark, not quite claiming again, not yet. He laps and suckles and seals his lips hard, and then he starts to swallow and gulp, pulling blood to the surface, marring his white skin with red. He’ll be bruised and bitten come morning, bearing the badges of honour of a loved and wanted omega, and he _can’t wait_.

“Strip for me,” Poe orders.  


Ben can’t really move, but he wriggles at his shirt, getting it up and off, still leaving Poe pressed snug to his ass. The arms cinch around his waist, keeping him still, and he can feel the slick start to drip out of him, smell the sweetness of it. He’s not as drawn by the scent as Poe is, but it’s still got enough wonderful memories that the tang of it in the back of his throat makes his cock unbearably hard. The shirt goes off, and hands go to his shoulderblades. Fingernails sink in at the collarbone, then scratch down and to his ass. Down, and then Poe grabs around his front and for his aching cock.

“I said _strip_.” His fingers and thumbs form a triangle around his crotch, and squeeze the bump into one place. They tighten, a maddening not-enough touch, and Ben’s mind goes out the window. “ _Strip_.”

Alpha voice. Ben can’t help but obey. Shaking hands push at fasteners, pushing the now-soaking pants down and to his knees below him. Ben tries to wriggle the last bit out, and needs some help to comply. The air is cool and refreshing against his heated ass, but that’s quickly replaced by clothed thighs.

Ben _whines_. “Poe… _please_. Want to feel you, too. Please, Alpha.” 

“Want to feel your mate against you, babe? Want to feel me as I love you?” Gravelly words cut tight through the air against him, and Poe’s clothed crotch is sliding against his ass.  


He’s getting slick all over him, the scent of Ben’s arousal soaking into his clothing, too. The scent thing goes both ways, and Ben loves to make Poe smell of _him_. Of **them**. His heats, his slick, are only for his lover and mate. No one else, just him… so his possessive, rutting behaviour is manna to him.

“ _Please_.”  


“Go to the bed. I’m going to fuck you there,” Poe insists. “Get to our bed and I’ll breed you so full. I’ll make your hole drip twice over. I’ll bite my claim all into you, so every time you breathe you know you’re _mine_.”  


Ben can barely _walk_ , but he hobbles, all the same. His ass is a sticky, hungry mess and he’s all but waddling into place. He goes as fast as he can, kicking off boots and shoes, and when he gets to their room, he thanks the Maker that Kes knew well enough to take the kids for a long play session with Chewie. He’s _very grateful_ for that, if also minorly alarmed that Kes knows when they’re going to need space.

…they aren’t as subtle as he likes to imagine, then. Okay.

The omega climbs onto the bed, grabbing pillows and pushing them into a little puddle under him, and then turns to glance over his shoulder. Poe is undressing like a man gone mad, and his eyes glitter in anticipation.

Ben’s mouth runs dry. Poe is attractive _anyway,_ but trebly so when he’s horny and hungry. His warm skin ready, his dusky nipples pointing in the same direction his dick does: _to Ben_. His cock rises firmly and proudly, the shaft veined and all but throbbing, the cockhead proud and glistening with the small slick of his own fluid, the precum ready for their coupling. His mate’s chest heaves over breaths, and then he’s pouncing on top of him and Ben can see nothing but kisses.

Kisses that taste of furious love, bitten and growled into his mouth. He opens wide, feeling the teeth and blurringly fierce suckles and then tasting Poe’s day pushed into his mouth with more noises of ownership and lust. Maybe he shouldn’t find such primitive behaviour sexy, but it’s from a man he loves and trusts with all he is, and whose love he craves. Poe’s libido is appealing as hell, and his appreciation is greatly desired. Ben _loves_ to be loved and **wanted**  like this, and the slap of dick to his balls is _not right not enough no no no_.

“ _Take me_ ,” he whispers, when they pause their kisses enough. “ **Take** me, Alpha. Breed me. Knot me. Claim me. Make my belly swell with your seed. Make me _reek_ of you. Make your ownership known to _everyone_. **Take me, I’m begging you**.”  


“I’m **going to** ,” Poe says, and his thrusts still rut against his balls, a promise and a threat and a tease. “I’m going to fill that hole of yours so tight. Gonna stretch you wide. Gonna knot you so I can’t come out.”  


“ _OhMakerplease_.”  


Poe doesn’t tease him any longer, which is good. His cock is scratching against the pillows, his balls all but screaming with the pressure inside of them. The slick dribble’s now all but gushing out, and his hole’s working itself to distraction over fresh air. There’s a firm, sure pressure by his entrance, a promise - short made, soon kept - and Poe slams in to the hilt.

Which just feels _glorious_. Ben’s body accepts it with pleasure, swallowing him with a gulping, squelching noise that sounds filthy and feels better. He moans with full voice as he’s reamed wide, his walls gripping and curling possessively around the intrusion, trying to swallow it and keep it there. There’s a moment of wordless lust as they start to move, and Ben drops onto his forearms to offer his passage, to give Poe all of him inside that he can. 

Slide after slide, dragging against hot flesh, teasing his sensitive, tightening hole and then Poe starts to pound into his prostate, stimulating him higher. He can all but feel his body craving the breeding, the seed that’s going to flood him and swell him up. He can’t get pregnant right now, but his hindbrain still craves and fantasies about it, remembers how he glowed to be bearing their children. _Later_ , he tells his body. _Later, if we still want to_. 

But his nipples fill and scratch the bedding, his cock drops below him, and he spreads his legs wider for Poe to keep up the relentless hammering movements. The need in him soars, peaks, crests, and doesn’t seem to come down. Instead, it keeps going beyond what it probably should, and he _keens_ in agonised, heady hunger. “Fuck! Poe! Oh… ohPLEASE!”

“You’re _mine_ ,” his Alpha rasps, and bends to start biting all over his neck and shoulders, marking him with firm snicks of his teeth and firmer gulps and sucks that paint more star-splatters like dustclouds around the solar moles on his skin.   


The pain is glorious, but the intent is better. Sharp stings and the safety and surety of knowing he’s _home_ , and Ben grabs at his cock, beating himself furiously, needing to climax, needing to empty his balls and make more room for _Poe_. The hands on his waist are fierce as Poe’s rutting gets rougher, his cock harder to pull out, the knot swelling in preparation. He’s going to come, going to make Ben his bitch, and Ben _loves it_. Loves all of it. 

There’s no room for more words, especially not when Poe’s mouth unerringly finds the claiming mark, the proof forever of his bond, his claim, their mutual promise. He’d begged for it, demanded it. He’d asked his Alpha for the claim, sealing a deal that had been two decades in the making - if not more. It sends electric pleasure through his whole frame, the **Force** in the room like a thunderstorm, Poe’s intent washing through him and making him _whole_. Making them both whole. Making this _right_. Ben’s hand stutters over his climax as he spills into the bed, his body clenching and clutching at the swelling dick inside of him.

As he comes, Poe ties him. All at once, the knot flares so wide it can’t possibly slip out, no matter the thrusting. Then there’s a perfect calm before the storm - a moment of clarity - and then his Alpha howls out his own pleasure into the bite on his omega’s neck. Ben feels the gushing inside, the pulsing, throbbing waves of spurting come that fill and flood him inside. That coat him, white and sticky, in Poe’s name. That links them and makes him preen and gloat, a satisfaction that goes all the way through his core. The full cock rubs against his prostate, and he comes again, dry but happy. It gets confusing after a while, with the stimulus never-ending. The hands, the pressure against the knot of need inside, the tight stretch to his hole… 

The kisses get softer as Poe’s animalistic urges wane slightly, in the wake of their passion. Still tied, still linked and coupled, he kisses with apologetic and solicitous fervour. “Sorry, love.”

“What for?” Ben asks, his mind starting to drift pleasantly, feeling his whole self melt into the bed, under his beloved.

“I got a bit… rut-mad, didn’t I?”

“I’m not complaining,” Ben points out, tensing a little, getting another hiss. “I love when you want me.”

“I know, but I–”

“Shhh,” Ben insists. “Just hold me. I feel… great.”

Poe - cock slowing the spurts, but still knotted and tied and in for the long-haul as their bodies try to make the mating take - curls around him, tight. “I don’t deserve you, love. You’re so wonderful.”

“Shhh,” Ben repeats. “Just hold me, now. I love you, Poe. I do.”

Poe relents, and rolls them to one side. Hands curl around the omega, and they trade soft kisses instead of explanations. Ben hums in delight, feeling well-used, well-loved, and well-wanted. It’s perfect. It’s beyond perfect. He could _not_ be happier. And this is just the first day of their heat-rut peak. Oh, Ben loves being an omega, he really, truly does. 


End file.
